The Black Lotus Blossom
by CrazyPelirrojo
Summary: In the arid desolation of the Capital Wasteland, a flower blooms - the Lotus Guild, DC's most notorious criminal organization. But how did it all begin? Rated M for language, sexuality, violence, and drug use. *NOW IN REDESIGN, SUBSCRIBE TO BE UPDATED*
1. The Seed Within, Part 1

(Disclaimer: I am merely playing in the sandbox of the Fallout 3 universe. It's not mine, but this story is – so don't plagiarize, but drop a line if you'd like to rip some of my original ideas for your own story. Thanks to the Vault Wiki for supplementing my knowledge on some things.)

(Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing any kind of fan fiction, so your reviews encourage me to continue and help me improve. This story began as a game walkthrough and turned into…this, so enjoy! The back story will come out in later chapters. Now, without further ado…)

***UPDATE*** Chapter One is done, and I know I promised no significant changes in the rewrite, but third person ended up giving me more creative freedom. And I've added about 10% to the word count, some new content and the rest just a better version of what I had before.

**Chapter One: The Seed Within, Part I**

"Come here, little one."

The deep, masculine voice caused Lei Quan to look up. She had been sitting on the floor beside her toy box, rolling a cherry red toy truck back and forth. On its side, the words "Nuka-Cola" were stenciled in a flowing script. The truck was slightly dented, the once-lacquered finish long since faded over the course of its 200-year lifetime in the artificially lit, climate-controlled environment of Vault 101.

"Come on, I know you can do it," her father implored, "come to Daddy."

Lei quickly fixated her attention on the brightly-colored book he held in his hand. There was no way she could understand the contents of I'm Special at this age, but she could remember the feeling of safety and contentment she felt as her father held her, his soothing voice washing over her as he flipped through the pages and she drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Jin Quan watched with an adoring smile as his daughter struggled to her feet and eagerly began to stagger over to him on her unsteady legs.

"One year old and already walking around. Oh, Lei, I'm so proud of you!"

Responding to the warmth in his tone, Lei gurgled happily.

"Dada!"

The exclamation illuminated Jin's face with joy at hearing his only child's first word. However, an observer would have noticed that the smile on his face didn't quite reach his eyes, which at that moment acquired a glistening, distant look. Such an observer would have noted the absence of Lei's mother, recalling that he had entered the Vault unaccompanied except for the child he carried in his arms, and concluded that Jin still grieved for her, whoever she had been.

Jin was snapped out of his reverie as Lei tugged the book from his hands, already flipping through the well-worn pages to look at the colorful illustrations of children engaged in various activities. Lei, in turn, was snapped out of her perusal of the book by an all-too-familiar **click** as the latch of the door to her plastimesh enclosure fell into place, her father standing on the other side with a look of regret on his face.

"I'm sorry, kiddo. Daddy will only be a minute," he promised, walking out.

He gave her once last glance as he passed the interior window that was a common feature in many rooms of the Vault, this one allowing him to check on his daughter from the family room of their residential unit. The metal door slid closed with a pneumatic **hiss **behind him.

Lei irately kicked a ball across the playpen, unhappy with her indefinite confinement. She shifted uncomfortably, likely feeling the chill of the stone floor seeping through the thin material of her soft pink jumpsuit. Spotting a toy car sat off to one side, she grabbed it and began making the best of the situation, rolling the "Red Racer" car around on the floor, crawling after it as she propelled it with her hand. She reached the fence but, determined not to alter her course, stood up and started rolling the car along its side and making unintelligible, wet burbles of contentment. Suddenly, it stopped rolling, its axles caught on the door latch mechanism. Intently, Lei pushed against the car, willing it forward until, with a **click**, the door swung open.

It was an unexpected but welcome surprise to Lei. Abandoning the car, she picked up her book and toddled over to the chair where she was accustomed to falling asleep as her father read to her. She struggled to climb into the chair, but her upper body strength just wasn't developed enough to achieve her goal. She succeeded merely in pulling the cushion and several pillows onto the floor. Giving up, she settled onto the comfortable pile, facing the door and likely waiting for the return of her father. Minutes later she was curled up, the book clutched to her chest and her thumb in her mouth as she slept.

**********************************

**Four Years Later…**

"Oh, is little baby Amata going to go cry to her daddy now?" Butch taunted.

Lei had been looking for her best friend, Amata Almodovar, so that they could play Vault with their dolls. Her own doll, Guinevere, swayed side-to-side with her steps, the blonde's wide green eyes occasionally obscured by the oscillating movements of the counter-weighted eyelids that simulated blinking.

Hearing the taunts, Lei had followed the voices and now rounded the corner onto yet another of the monotonously slate grey halls of Vault Level B, the second level of the Vault. Stopping short, she took in the scene before her.

Butch DeLoria and his friends, Paul Hannon and Wally Mack, were tossing Samantha, Amata's favorite doll, between themselves as Amata tearfully pleaded for its return and futilely tried to intercept it from the taller boys as it yet again soared over her head.

The three boys, along with Freddie Gomez, Chip Taylor, and Steve Mack, made up the boys in their "generation," a term that designated the children born during each population cycle. The girls in this generation, Generation L7, included Lei, Amata, Christine Kendall, and Susie Brotch.

Lei dropped her doll to the floor and rushed forward to stop them.

"Butch, leave Amata alone, you big, dumb bully!" she shouted.

Smirking, Butch stepped to the side and stuck his foot out just as Lei was about to crash into him, sending her sprawling across the rough polycrete floor. Tears of pain sprang to her eyes, pinpricks of blood leaking from a hundred tiny lacerations on her hands and arms.

"Or you'll what, you clumsy little Wastefreak?" he taunted her.

Paul and Wally guffawed and went back to tossing Amata's doll between themselves, but lost interest as Amata gave up and went to help Lei to her feet.

"Oh, look what I found…" Butch said, causing Amata and Lei to look over at him.

Identical looks of horror blossomed on their faces. Butch held Guinevere, one arm in either of his hands as he pulled in opposite directions. Butch saw the looks on their faces and was, if possible, spurred even further.

"You wanna do something? Come on and save your precious dolly!"

He stared at them challengingly, neither daring to move against him, until the seams could take no more and ripped asunder, both arms dripping fluffy stuffing.

"That's what I thought!" Butch snarled as he turned to go.

Paul and Wally looked at the girls, looked at Butch, and then promptly copied Butch's actions on Amata's doll. They carelessly tossed the crippled doll away to join Lei's doll on the floor as they hurried to follow Butch.

"Why do you have to be so mean to us?" Amata screamed at them as they walked away.

The two girls walked over and retrieved their dolls from the ground. Their emotions, already raw from the encounter, overwhelmed them as they looked at the ruin inflicted upon their beloved playthings. Amata burst into tears and was soon joined by Lei, their wails echoing in the empty passageway and mingling with the fading sounds of callous laughter. Both seeking comfort, yet both also wanting to comfort the other, they did the only thing they could think of. Each wrapped her arms around the other and pulled her close, burying their respective faces in the other's shoulder as they were racked with sobs.

**********************************

**Three Years Later…**

**Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack!**

"Hurry up! They're getting closer!"

"Shut up, I've almost got it! AHA!"

Amata held up the card triumphantly as the light turned green and the door slid open. We tumbled into the room and hastily hit the pad to seal the door. Seconds later, we heard the clump of our pursuers' boots rounding the corner. I tried to calm down, amazed that they couldn't hear my heart pounding against my ribs. The noises suddenly stopped.

"Sir, I just saw them heading this way," Officer Kendall explained.

The tread stopped as a second voice snapped, "I assign you one simple task, John, and you can't even do that? How hard is it to keep an eye on my daughter and make sure that Jin's little brat isn't influencing her?"

A soft gasp escaped my lips. My mouth worked soundlessly as indignation swelled inside of me.

"He…your…that…" I choked out.

"Shh!" Amata hissed in a whisper. "Do you want us to get caught?"

Biting back a retort, I quieted and listened as the Overseer finished scolding Kendall.

"Keep looking. I will expect to hear from you in the next hour, for your sake."

His softer tread, no longer masked by Kendall's boots, walked away.

"Bastard," we heard Kendall mutter, "Why don't you try actually raising your kid instead of making the rest of us do it?"

He huffed and stomped off. I looked over to see Amata flushing with anger. Trying to divert her thoughts, I sighed then put a grin on my face and began talking cheerfully.

"Did your dad ever figure out that you took his access card?" I asked. "That was a brilliant idea by the way!"

The blend of question and praise seemed to have the right effect, as I watched her pause to process what I'd said.

"No, he just got another one made," she stated, then smiled angelically. "No, Daddy, I haven't seen your ID. Why? Did you misplace it again?"

I collapsed in a fit of giggles, picturing the scene in my head, and she joined in. A minute later, I sobered up enough to examine our surroundings.

"Where are we?" I wondered aloud.

The room appeared to be a residential unit, but judging from the thick layer of dust blanketing the well-worn blue carpet it hadn't been used in awhile. A full-size bed lurked in the corner of the room, it's linens a faded blue from years of use. Against the wall was a synthwood wardrobe flanked by two chests of drawers made of the same faux-oak material as the wardrobe. The aluminum of the privacy panel at the back of the room concealed what I knew would be a small room with a plastex toilet and single-person hygiene stall. A storage chest at the foot of the bed and a desk with a built-in, slide-out seat completed the room's spartan furnishings.

I surmised that this room had been decommissioned since not many people were left in the Vault. My dad liked to tell me stories about how the Vault used to be crowded with people, but wouldn't tell me why there were so few people now.

Leading Amata over to the bed, I plopped down and pulled out the bag of potato crisps that we'd been sneaking out of the cafeteria when Officer Kendall spotted us. She reached into a pocket and passed me one of the bottles of water she'd managed to get her hands on. Relaxing and munching on the chips as the thrill of the chase wore off, we rehashed our favorite topic - the stupidity of Butch and his friends. They always seemed to find an excuse to make our lives more difficult, so we'd started going everywhere together so that they couldn't catch us by ourselves and chase us through the labyrinthine passages of the Vault or otherwise harass us.

**********************************

**Two Years Later…**

The lights flashed on, harsh and fluorescent. As I shielded my eyes, rainbow spots dancing across my vision, a deafening chorus of "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" erupted around me. As my eyes adjusted, I saw everybody standing around and clapping.

"Happy birthday, princess!" Dad exclaimed, wrapping me in a hug, "Happy tenth birthday! You're growing…"

He was cut off as the Overseer cleared his throat loudly and edged in front of Dad. A wave of dislike immediately swept over me. Amata was my best friend, but her father was always ordering everyone around and never doing any real work himself. And now he was talking in that officious, superior tone of his. I was interrupted from my thoughts as he finished speaking.

"…own Pip Boy 3000," he intoned as he thrust it towards me, adding with a smirk, "You'll be getting your first work assignment tomorrow."

As he walked off - _probably to go help himself to the best piece of cake_ I thought to myself – my Dad stepped forward again, his face returning to a smile from the frown he'd directed at the Overseer's back.

"Ignore him and enjoy your party," he said, "I've got a surprise present for you later."

He moved to go sit with his friend Stanley, but I stopped paying attention as the next person stepped forward. I felt my face stretch into a huge smile.

"Amata!" I threw my arms around her and hugged her tightly. "The party is amazing!"

She grinned back as we stepped apart.

"You're so easy to surprise. I bet you can't even guess what I got you for your birthday, can you?"

I realized she was right, so I could only admit defeat.

"You're right, I can't," I conceded.

"Well, I was rummaging through some of the storage sublevels and I found a mint-condition, never-opened copy of…" she drummed her fingers on the nearby chair, "Grunhilda the Valkyrie!"

My jaw dropped...there was no way…

"Which issue?" I asked, hardly daring to hope.

"Issue #69," she grinned victoriously.

I couldn't believe it. The final issue, the only one I hadn't read. Before I could stop myself, I stepped forward and awkwardly kissed her on the cheek. She stared at me with a shocked expression. I blushed and started stuttering out an apology. She shushed me, and glanced around before giving me a quick peck on the cheek.

"You're welcome," she finished in a low voice. "I've gotta go now, you know how my dad is, but I'll see you later, okay?"

I just nodded, still processing what had just happened. I saw Dad looking at me from across the room and inclining his head towards the guests. I had to be polite and thank everyone for coming to my party. An elderly lady was sitting alone nearby, taking dainty bites of some Cram. I walked up beside her and gave her a hug. She was the oldest person here in Vault 101, and all of us called her Grandma Palmer.

"Thank you for coming, Grandma," I said warmly, "but why are you sitting here by yourself?"

"Oh, don't worry about me, dear. My, my…you're ten already. You're growing up so fast. Why, it seems that just yesterday …"

Just then a shrill **whirr** filled the air and I could hear Stanley shouting.

"NO, ANDY, DON'T CUT THE…"

He was too late, as the Handy bot's circle saw met the cake with a wet **whuck**, sending cake flying everywhere.

"Well," Grandma Palmer started, "I guess it's a good thing I baked you one of my famous Streusel Sweet Rolls."

She pulled it out of her handbag, wrapped in cellophane.

"Go on now and enjoy it, you don't need to share it with anyone."

I thanked her again and walked off, beginning to unwrap it. I was roughly pulled aside.

"Give me that sweet roll," Butch demanded in a low voice. "I'm hungry, and that stupid robot destroyed the cake."

I jerked my arm away, anger washing over me. Butch and his stupid friends Wally and Paul had picked on me for as long as I could remember, and they only got worse as time went on. I decided that it was time to start fighting back. I leaned in close to Butch.

"Oh, did your drunk of a mom forget to feed you again?" I whispered nastily, taking pleasure as I watched my remark register.

He flushed with shame as his face contorted with rage.

"Don't you talk about my mom!"

With a shout, he lunged at me, swinging clumsily. I stepped aside fluidly and swept my foot out, tangling his legs and sending him crashing into the remnants of the cake.

"Too slow, monkeyface."

I walked away as the adults rushed over.

"What happened?" Dad asked, his concern evident.

I struggled to keep from laughing as Butch was pulled aside by Officer Gomez, frosting and bits of cake plastering his face.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Butch!" Officer Gomez chastised him. "Trying to hit a girl…"

"Butch wanted my present from Grandma Palmer, daddy, and when I wouldn't give it to him he tried to take it from me. But I took care of it."

"Officer Gomez and I will get this sorted out," he said sternly, "in the meantime, why don't you go down to the reactor level? Jonas has the surprise present that I told you about."

"Alright!" I agreed enthusiastically.

On my way out of the room, I made sure to thank Stanley for my Pip Boy and escape before Mrs. Armstrong could corner me. She was the most eccentric person in the Vault and liked to write unsettlingly strange poems. As I walked towards the stairs down to the reactor level, I heard voices coming from the stairs up to the atrium. Curious, I slipped off my shoes and crept closer in my socks.

"…I put up with that brat and her father is because he is our only doctor and she is Amata's friend."

I recognized the voice…it was the Overseer!

"Give the party five more minutes, then shut it down and get everyone back to work."

_Oh, how I hate that man! I'll get back at him one day…_

"As you command, sir," said Officer Kendall.

I crept away, seething, and stomped to the reactor room. As I entered, Jonas's voice rang out.

"Kids aren't allowed down here!"

Not in the mood to play any games, I glared at him.

"Can it, Jonas, my dad said that my surprise present was down here," I snapped, "So where is it?"

"We're waiting for your…" he began.

"Sorry for the wait, Jonas," Dad broke in, entering the room. "Butch was, well, being Butch again. I knew that I shouldn't have let him come to the party, but I thought that…well, it doesn't matter now."

He scanned his Vault ID and a nearby door hissed open. Motioning for us to follow him, we entered one of the many substorage rooms of the Vault. The dusty room was filled with crates. My father went to one and unsnapped the locks on it. I squealed in delight when he pulled out a BB gun.

"It took forever to find the parts to rebuild this," Dad said, "but I finally restored it. Do you like it?"

"I love it, Daddy, thanks!" I affirmed.

Just then, I heard a skittering coming from the corner. A roach as big as a puppy emerged from behind some crates, its carapace rasping against the floor. I recognized it from our school lessons as a radroach, one of the creatures that had been mutated by the nuclear fallout from the Great War. I took aim and shot at it, but the BB merely **ping**ed off a crate behind it. I fired again, and heard a **chik** as the BB glanced off the floor in front of the roach. Another shot, and this one managed to graze the bug's chitinous skin. At this, the bug turned and began skittering towards me.

Without time to reload for another shot, I reacted on instinct. I dropped the gun to the floor, and lashed out with my foot as the radroach jumped. My foot connected and sent it flying backwards, landing on its back. As it struggled to right itself, I ran forward and jumped, pulling my legs up. I stomped them down, feet together, as I landed on the radroach. With a **crack **and a **squelch**, its exoskeleton split and its foul-smelling viscera oozed out. My father clapped loudly.

"Well, well, well. Nice job, Lei! Not quite a big game hunter, but that was impressive nevertheless. Perhaps I should have made you a punching bag instead."

He came over and hugged me.

"Hey, Stanley, get a picture of my little roach slayer and me!"

A bright flash later, Dad made a suggestion.

"Why don't we head back now? Maybe you can spend some time with your friend Amata before curfew."

*****************************************

**One Year Later…**

Soon enough, I'd found out that I was worthless with a gun and told my dad that I wanted to learn how to fight. Surprised, he had nevertheless scrounged up the materials to build a serviceable punching bag for my 11th birthday, filling an old duraplast sack with sand he'd excavated from the service tunnels deep down in the Vault and hanging it in my room. Even better, he had told me about how, before the war, there were people who learned to use their body as a weapon through practicing martial arts. It had been my turn to be shocked when he had gone into his room and emerged with some old photographs. They showed him holding some sort of trophy, dressed all in white with a black belt tied around his waist.

"When I was young, my parents encouraged me to learn martial arts, and so I was trained in several styles of Shaolin kung fu. While I can no longer use them practically, I will do my best to help you learn them." I threw my arms around him.

"Really? Thanks Dad, you're the best!" I had gushed.

When I saw Amata later that day, I told her to meet me at our spot, promising a surprise. Now she was looking at me upside down, sprawled across the bed.

"Well, what's this super secret surprise you've been teasing me with?" she asked with a mixture of impatience and anticipation.

Giggling, I did my best imitation of her.

"You're so easy to surprise. I bet you can't even guess what I have for you, can you?"

I looked at her expectantly. I watched her desire for the surprise war with her pride. Finally, she relented, but responded in a parody of my voice.

"Oh my gosh, you're right. I totally can't!" she exclaimed, her eyes flashing merrily.

I threw a pillow at her, but she deflected it.

"I do NOT sound like that!" I protested in a scandalized voice, but ruined the effect by bursting into laughter. "But I guess if you don't want your surprise…" She looked at me pleadingly.

"Please?" she implored.

I reached under the bed, grabbing onto the cool metal of the item I'd stashed under it earlier.

"Drumroll, please," I announced.

Amata sighed, but began bouncing her hands on the mattress. I pulled out my BB gun and watched delight blossom on her face.

"I want you to have this."

"No way!" she exclaimed. "How did you…? Where did you…? Never mind, I don't want to know. Thanks, Lei!"

She rolled over and pounced on me, wrapping me in an appreciative hug. Caught unaware, the gun flew from my hands as we tumbled over the edge of the bed.

"Oof!" I grunted as Amata landed on top of me.

She looked down and smirked.

"Pinned ya!" she exulted.

I squirmed around, managing to brace a leg against the bed frame. Pushing out and up, I twisted until I was looking down at her.

"Pinned who, again?" I teased.

Amata relaxed and I loosened my grip. She exploded into motion and I was whirled back to the ground.

"Pinned YOU again," she declared, grinning in triumph.

I didn't reply, suddenly aware of how close we were. Amata seemed to realize the same thing, blushing.

"Err…"

She rolled off of me and helped me up, avoiding my eyes.

"Do you know somewhere we can practice shooting this thing?" she asked.

"Oh, I know the perfect place," I responded confidently. "Have you ever been down to the reactor level?"

********************************************

**Three Years Later…**

"Alright, class. Remember, this is Career Interest Week!" Mr. Brotch enthused. "You will each come up one by one and draw a name from the jar. Each name is that of a person who works in one of the many departments here in the Vault. You will shadow your person for the next week and submit a paper detailing your experiences, as well as an evaluation by your mentor."

Many people groaned in disappointment, but began filing towards the front of the room regardless. I noticed Mr. Brotch pull Amata aside and sidled closer, trying to focus on their conversation over the hum of the ancient slidecaster.

"…will, of course, be shadowing your father per his request."

"But, Mr. Brotch, I want to…"

"I'm sorry, Amata, but I'm not going to go against…"

"Well, he can't make me!"

And with that she stormed over to her desk and shoved herself into the seat. A sharp bump from behind caught my attention.

"Are you too stupid to get a piece of paper? You know, the white stuff that people write on?" Butch sneered.

"When are you going to grow up, Butch?" I retorted, "Maybe when your mom stops drinking?"

I snatched a piece of paper and stalked back to my seat before he could think of a comeback. Glancing at it, I noticed that I had gotten Stanley. _This should be interesting…_

I perked up as several people snickered at the front of the room.

"Shut up!" Butch growled.

"He's a barber, not a hair stylist. This is stupid, anyways. I'm out of here."

Crumpling up the paper, he was walking towards the exit when Mr. Brotch called to him.

"Your choice, Butch, but this is mandatory for graduation. But hey, if you don't mind Waste Disposal…"

With a snort of disgust, Butch turned around and went back to his seat, glaring at anyone who dared look at him.

After class, I tracked down Stanley in his workspace. The room was chaotic, with a dilapidated bookcase containing a hodge-podge of books, manuals, and papers stuffed onto its shelves against one wall. The rest of the room was taken up by a workbench, several countertops, and a desk that wrapped around the corner of the room. A plethora of colored wires crisscrossed the floor, while scraps of metal and salvage were scattered about. The countertops were hidden beneath an assortment of electrical equipment and parts, various trinkets, and apparent junk. Clearing my throat loudly, Stanley ceased his feverish tapping of the keys on the keyboard, the flow of green characters across the screen continuing despite his lack of input.

"Yes, Lei, can I help you?" he asked distractedly.

"Well, I'm supposed to…" I began.

"Crap! Is that today?"

Jonas turned to another computer and tapped a few keys.

"Crap!" he exclaimed again as he turned back to me, running a hand through his balding hair. "I'm really sorry, Lei, I totally forgot about Career Interest Week," he apologized. "I'm in the middle of this project and really can't spare the time today. Wait… Yes, that would make sense and kill two mole rats with one dart…"

I could practically see the gears turning in his head.

"Tell you what, Lei. Why don't you have a seat over there and browse some of the books I have. Find an area you're interested in, and we can start looking into it tomorrow."

He looked pleased with his solution, so I agreed. There was only one problem…

"Over…where?" I asked, indicating the clutter taking up all available space.

"Oh, I'm sorry, give me a sec," he said.

He stepped to a chair, grabbing the papers piled in it and piling them into another chair with an already precariously-tilting stack of papers. He swept aside the odds and ends on the nearby countertop, some of them clanking to the floor as he cleared a spot for me.

"Thanks, Stanley," I said gratefully. He muttered noncommittally in reply, already back at his station and absorbed in his current project. Scanning the bookshelf, some titles caught my attention and, with some effort, I extracted them from the surrounding materials. I held two books and a manual.

The first book, Password Protected: A Beginner's Introduction to Electronic Security Systems, seemed to be from pre-war times. Flipping through it, it appeared to be an educational text. The second book, The Big Bang: A Practical Approach to Explosives, also read like a textbook, but contained practical advice and lessons. The book was slightly singed, leading me to wonder about what had happened to the previous owner. Lastly, I glanced at the cover of the manual. Wasteland Weaponsmithing appeared to have been written by someone named Lucky Harith. Opening it, I was amazed at the in-depth discussion of the pros and cons of various weapons, as well as lists of components that could be used to make your own weaponry.

"What about these, Stanley?" I asked.

Stanley continued working, oblivious. I tried again, with similar results. On the third query, he finally heard me and turned to look at the books, examining them.

"Well, I'd be happy to teach you about computers, but as for the other two," he concluded, "you won't need to build weapons since the security officers protect everyone, and we definitely don't want you accidentally blowing the Vault up, so I'll have to say no. But if you think you might like computers, you might like this."

He dug around a bit before thrusting a paperback book at me – The Steel Soldier: Robotics Revealed. It looked at least mildly interesting, so I set it with the computer textbook and made to put the others back on the shelf. However, as soon as Stanley went back to his work I slipped them into my school bag, annoyed at Stanley's paternalistic attitude. _I'll decide what I do and don't need to do for myself, thank you very much._

**********************************************

**Two Years Later…**

"Lei! Time for school! You don't want to be late today!" my father's muffled voice shouted through the door.

I didn't reply, focusing on technique as I flowed into the next stance of the Shaolin animal styles. In my mind, I visualized two opponents. Pushing off of one leg, I leapt nimbly up, dodging a leg sweep, and snapped my other foot forward quickly, catching one in the stomach. As I landed, I swept my left arm out, deflecting an imagined left hook outward and turning my body into the move, thrusting my right palm upwards at an angle and catching the second assailant under the jawbone. Using the disorientation of my blow, and now in close quarters, I rapidly shifted my weight, shot my left knee upwards into the groin, and finished the fight by bringing my closed right fist crashing sharply down onto the back of his neck as he bent over in pain.

Sensing the approach of the first, I turned and rained a series of lightning blows at the punching bag, aiming from memory at the several critical points and finishing with a viper-like fingertip jab at the throat. I imagined my foe clutching his throat as I kicked from the side, crippling his knee and collapsing him to the ground.

Picking up a towel, I wiped away the thin sheen of sweat covering my body and stepped into my jumpsuit, zipping it up the front. I walked out of the room and found Dad looking at me with a frown.

"Oh, lighten up, Dad," I said, "The G.O.A.T. is just a bunch of the Overseer's crap anyways."

"Watch your mouth, young lady," he warned, "and regardless, you'll only succeed in pissing him off if you skip it. Do you really want to be stuck cleaning the waste facilities for the rest of your life?"

"It wouldn't be the first time I've had to put up with everyone's shit," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that, Lei?" he asked.

"I said, you're right, Dad. I'll go take the test," I supplied.

"That's my girl," he smiled, "Good luck on the exam."

I exited our residential unit, walking the familiar route toward the Vault classrooms. As I turned the corner onto the education hall, I could hear the low rumblings of several male voices. I'd almost passed the empty classroom when I heard Amata's voice.

"I said no, Butch!" I stopped in my tracks, surely they couldn't be…


	2. The Seed Within, Part 2

**Chapter One: The Seed Within, Part Two**

"I'll show you a real Tunnel Snake," Butch's voice said in a suggestive tone.

I opened the door, and felt my blood boil at the scene. Amata cowered behind a desk, her jumpsuit half-undone. Paul and Wally were perched on the edges of nearby desks, blocking her from the sides. Butch stood close to Amata, and as he turned to confront my intrusion, I saw the flash of his switchblade as he slid it into his sleeve. The desks...they could be a problem, I noted, already analyzing the surroundings with a tactical eye. They would impair my mobility.

"Nosy little bitch, ain't ya?" he said darkly. "If you're smart, you'll get the fuck out of here and forget you ever saw this," Butch threatened, stepping away from Amata.

"Tsk, tsk, Butch," I said sweetly. "Didn't your mother ever teach you manners? You know, between beating you, screwing anything with half a dick, and drinking herself into a permanent spot in the medical bay? No, I can see not," I continued, pushing aside a desk. "But we're here now, in a classroom,"

I slid another desk away from me.

"Seems like the perfect place to learn a lesson. First, we'll start with manners. Get down on your knees and beg for her forgiveness. Tell her that you'll never do it again, and…I'll take it into consideration when I decide whether to beat you unconscious or turn you in to Vault security."

I nudged another desk to the side as Butch threw back his head and laughed derisively.

"Ooh, I'm so scared. What do you think a skinny little cunt like you could possibly do to me?"

I interrupted Paul and Wally's sycophantic snickering with my dismissive laughter.

"Oh, Butch, if you only knew all the things I could possibly do to you," I said, my sugary tone barely masking the implied threat.

I noticed Amata pressing herself into the corner now. She was the only other person in the Vault besides my Dad who knew what I'd been practicing.

"Lei, don't…" she pleaded weakly.

I cut her off.

"And let them just walk away? You would really let them just walk away?"

Her silence said it all. I turned back to Butch, who was smirking at our exchange.

"Yes, please, don't hurt us," he drawled sarcastically.

"How about I shove that broomstick over there so far up your ass that you sweep the floor when you walk? Maybe then you'd have something to contribute to the world, instead of being the perfect waste of space that you are," I retorted, "as a hair stylist."

My last statement seemed to push all the right buttons all the wrong ways.

"Bitch, I got your broomstick right here!" he said, thrusting his crotch at me. "Paul, Wally, it looks like we're going to have another guest at this party. Get her!"

They got to their feet and began to amble towards me, fists held at the ready as they spread apart. Then Butch approached, his knife sliding into his hand. With a **snick**, the blade sprang out. I began to feel the first whispers of doubt. Three on one, and in these conditions…but now there was nothing left to do but see it through to the end. My pride wouldn't allow surrender, especially not when it meant leaving Amata to their less-than-tender mercies.

Wally was the first one to gather the nerve to attack. I felt the rush of air from behind and to my right. Reacting instinctively, I spun into a kick, but reality fell far short of my imagined fights. My timing off, I was halfway through the maneuver when he slammed into me, catching me off balance. I turned and rolled as I hit the cold tile, pain lancing up my arm as my elbow absorbed the impact. I was up quickly, but my confidence was shaken. _Offense is defense _I reminded myself.

I lowered my stance as Wally charged again, my training coming back to me. I popped into the air, my foot clipping his chin and throwing his head back. I took advantage of the opportunity to sink a fist into his stomach. He hunched to grab his stomach, but lowered himself right into my uppercut. As his head flew back yet again, I swept his legs from under him, sending him toppling backwards.

I shot a challenging stare at Butch. _Why the hell does he look so smug?_ _Shit, where is…_ Just then, Paul's arms wrapped around me as he sent both of us tumbling to the ground. The air rushed from my lungs as his weight thudded on top of me. Bucking and writhing, I tried to extricate myself from the tangle of limbs, but boys were just heavier than girls.

He wrapped his arms and legs around me and rolled over, leaving me staring up into the maliciously gleeful face of one Butch DeLoria. Now I knew what fear was, as a deep dread settled over me. _Oh, shit, I've stepped in it now._ I could only watch as he knelt beside me.

"Now where to start?" he asked rhetorically, fingering his switchblade lovingly. "How about we help you get a little more comfortable?"

He slipped the blade into the fabric at my neck and began dragging it sideways. Once he reached the shoulder, he repeated the process on the other side. Finishing, he cut downwards and peeled back the flap of fabric. He reached out and cupped one of my breasts, grinning lasciviously.

"Not bad, but I think we need a closer look, don't you, Paul?"

"Shit! Butch, behind you!" he yelled, only now noticing Amata looming behind Butch with a hot plate in her hands.

As she brought it smashing down on his head, I watched Butch's eyes roll back into his head and resigned myself to cushioning yet another person's fall. _Oof!_

"Let her go," Amata commanded, channeling her father's authoritative spirit.

Paul released me and I scrambled up. Looking down, I gave him a swift kick in the head, putting him out for at least a few minutes.

"Well, wow…thanks, Amata!"

Words couldn't describe my gratitude. I had been on the verge of succumbing to the panic that had threatened to overwhelm my senses. Instead, they were overwhelmed in an entirely unexpected way. Amata dropped the hot plate as she stepped up to me and brought her lips to mine. My brain froze as I felt the soft warmth of her lips moving against mine, and by the time I could respond she was already pulling away.

"What the hell, Amata?" I said, unable to process the flood of conflicting emotions - shock, confusion, gratitude, and…desire?

She looked taken aback, and I saw the hurt in her eyes.

"I'm sorry…I shouldn't have…I don't know what…but in the books, the hero always gets a kiss from the damsel…but don't worry, I won't…I just thought…" I shushed her with a finger to her lips.

"Well, in that case…" I leaned in and kissed her back, sucking on her bottom lip, "I guess it's only fair that I thank you back."

"Oh…" was all she could say.

We both looked away, the moment becoming awkward as the adrenaline wore off.

"I'd better go change," I suggested, laughing weakly. "I can't walk into the classroom looking like this. So, I guess I'll see you there?"

I backed towards the door, turning and restraining the urge to flee down the hall. _What was I thinking? Kissing the Overseer's daughter? He'll kill me if he finds out!_ I groaned to myself.

"Wait!" her voice rang out behind me.

I stopped, listening to her footfalls pad closer.

"Don't we have some spares stashed in the Nook?" she asked, referring to the room we'd claimed as our own years ago. "I could, you know, let you in so that you don't have to go all the way back…" she trailed off, the uncertainty clear in her voice. "You know, if you want."

I felt that her question was asking something much more, though I couldn't be sure. Looking at her, I realized that I wouldn't mind if my suspicions turned out to be correct, that I was strangely eager to see where things went from here.

"That sounds like a great idea," I agreed. "Lead the way."

*******************************************

**Three Years Later…**

I trailed butterfly kisses down the soft, chocolate-colored skin of her stomach. Amata sighed, her fingers twined in my hair as she guided me lower. Amata's Pip-Boy began beeping a tune we knew all too well.

"Fuck him," she breathed, as my hands cupped her firm butt, pulling her to my waiting mouth.

I couldn't help it, I laughed. I looked up into her eyes.

"Now why would I do that when I have something so much better already?" I asked playfully, trailing my fingers softly up her inner thighs.

I flicked my tongue out, eliciting a soft moan from her as I began to return to my earlier activities.

"Now where was I? Ohhh, yesss…"

The alarms chose that moment to go off, their harsh klaxon accompanied by flashing orange lights.

"God damnit, did he really just set off the alarms because you…"

Her Pip-Boy began beeping again, and she pulled herself up, rolling to the side and grabbing her Pip-Boy as the tune of the Funeral March ceased. Tapping some of the interface buttons, I watched her eyes widen as the color almost literally drained from her face. She jumped out of bed and grabbed her jumpsuit from the floor.

"Where are my…? Screw it," she finished, pulling her jumpsuit on.

I took a last, wistful look at her glistening, nude body before it was lost to sight. I decided I would have to leave as well and got dressed.

"I have to go," Amata stated bluntly, "Now."

Sensing that there was more to her statement than it seemed, I looked at her calmly, waiting for an explanation.

"What's happened?" I asked in a sober voice when she showed no signs of telling me more.

"Stay here. Whatever you do, don't leave. I'll be back soon," she ordered, avoiding the question.

I was dissatisfied with her answer, but I trusted her. I took a seat as she rushed out of the room, distant shouts echoing in the halls.

Minutes later, she returned. Out of breath, trembling, and holding a gun, she collapsed into the chair and slumped against me. Seriously concerned now, I turned and lifted her face, holding back an exclamation at the frenzied look in her eyes.

"Amata, you're scaring me. What's wrong?" I asked, bracing for the worst…or so I thought.

"It's your father, he's gone. It's a madhouse out there. Radroaches all over…people running everywhere…"

"Wait! Gone?" I echoed, "Gone where?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Lei! Gone outside the Vault gone," she cut in, panic creeping into her voice. "They think Jonas helped him escape…and now…now he's dead!"

"WHAT?!" I couldn't believe it. "How?! Why?!"

"He refused to talk…and my Dad…he…he wouldn't stop hitting him with the bat. Oh God, I can still hear his bones cracking, still see my Dad screaming at him to talk…"

She stared blankly past me. Mutely, I pulled her close and cradled her head against my chest as I struggled to make sense of it all. If she was right, then it stood to reason that they…

"They're looking for you," her muffled voice spoke into my chest. "They think you knew about this. My dad wants me to bring you to him. I don't know what he plans to do, but…I'm helping you get out of here."

So my assumptions were correct. Wordlessly, I got up and began moving about the room. I slid my training gloves on, and above them I worked my fingers into the brass knuckles I'd kept since finding them buried in the junk of Stanley's office. Grabbing a satchel from the trunk, I opened the drawers and began scooping our cache of food into it. I added the books I'd received from Stanley as a present, the ones about computers and robots, to the ones I'd stolen years ago. I added a couple of jumpsuits, mentally tallying what else I'd need. _Purified water from the cafeteria, some meds and chems from the clinic…_

"Do you want the gun?" she asked, offering it to me.

"You know how I operate, Amata. Besides, you may need it to keep your father from killing you if he finds out you're helping me."

The morbid truth of such a possibility made me grimace.

"Look, there's a secret passage under my Dad's office. Hell if I know where it goes, but maybe it'll get you out of here. Take this."

She thrust the Vault ID we'd used throughout the years towards me.

"It should get you into his office. The password to the computer is 31337. I'll try to meet you there, but don't wait up." Just then, the door hissed open and a security officer burst in.

"Found you! They're on level 2, section 3 - **BANG**!" he stopped yelling into his headset and stared at the blood pouring from a hole in his stomach.

**BANG! BANG! **Two more holes appeared in his security vest. With a heavy **thunk** he sank to his knees, groaned heavily, and slumped sideways. I stripped the steel baton from his belt and turned to find Amata rocking back and forth on the bed, the gun discarded as she cradled her head in her hands.

"What have I done? I didn't mean to…What have I done? Oh my god…"

"Amata? AMATA!"

I shook her roughly. She turned her eyes to me briefly.

"Go," she said faintly.

I ran.

Minutes later, I was roughly grabbed by Butch as I exited the cafeteria. I twisted out of his grasp and pushed, shoving him into the wall.

"Back off, DeLoria. I'm getting out of here, so just stay out of my way."

"You gotta help me!" he babbled. "Radroaches! My mom's trapped!"

"If only you knew the meaning of irony…now, I'll only say this one more time. Back. The. Fuck. Away."

I turned to leave, still needing to hit the clinic for supplies. He grabbed my arm and yanked me around to face him.

"You can't just leave her, you piece of sh-**CRACK**!" Several teeth flew out of his mouth and he staggered into the wall.

"I'll tell you what I can't do, Butch. I can't forget the way you've always tried to make my life a living hell."

I whipped the baton back around, shattering his jaw.

"I can't forgive what you tried to do to Amata…to me…in that classroom."

I dropped the baton, instead raining iron blows into his torso and hearing the brittle pops of ribs snapping under the brass knuckles as he was driven against a wall. He coughed blood and slid down the wall, keeling over onto the floor. I pulled him up onto his knees and forced him to look at me. Leaning close, I whispered the last words he would ever hear.

"And I can't bear the thought of letting you live another minute."

I slid my hands to caress his face. His eyes widened and he gasped wetly.

"Goodbye, Butch."

With a quick motion, I jerked his head to the side and felt the snap of bone as his neck was forced past its limits.

"Hmm, nice jacket."

I slid it off of his limp body and stowed it in my pack, then pocketed his switchblade as a souvenir.

I followed the screams around the corner and saw his mom through a window, flailing futilely as several radroaches leapt at her, sinking their mandibles into her unprotected legs. Soon enough, her legs could take no more abuse and she sank to the floor. The screams stopped in a gurgle as the radroaches' mandibles found her throat. _No more Butches out of her _I mused coldly. I examined the keypad, noticing that it seemed to be in lockdown mode. Swiping the Overseer's ID, it disengaged. Leaving the roaches to their meal, I crept to her liquor cabinet and placed several bottles of vodka into my pack, well aware of the liquid's practical uses.

My next stop was the medical clinic. Stepping inside the room, which was dimly lit by emergency lights, I tripped over an object on the floor. I rolled to the side, taking cover behind the desk as the thundering impact of boots stopped outside. The door hissed open, illuminating the silhouettes of two men.

"All clear, moving to the atrium!"

The boots thudded away, giving me the opportunity to notice exactly what I'd tripped over. Stanley's body lay sprawled next to an overturned chair, several ugly bruises marring his face. Underneath his head, a pool of congealing blood gave evidence of Stanley's final agony. I noticed my dad's voicecorder peeking out of one of his lab pockets. I popped the tape out and looked at the label: For Lei. Resolving to listen to it later, I inserted the tape and thrust the device into one of my pockets.

I got up and sat behind the desk. The blank screen had two words on it: "User" and "Pass." I quickly typed in "Jin Quan" and his password, "REV216."

Scrolling through the menu, I selected "Access Medical Supplies" and the bars slid back in the door behind me. Swinging it open, I began plucking various bottles and syringes off the shelves. Buffout, Med-X, Rad-Away, Rad-X, Jet, Psycho, and a liberal number of stimpacks. Tweezers, some empty syringes, some surgical tubing, a leather belt, and a needle and thread joined the rest of my supplies. On my way out, I grabbed the Vault-Tec Doctor Boy bobblehead as a memento of the times my father and I had spent together as he taught me the basics of first aid and how to treat injuries.

Making my way to the Atrium, I passed by the corpse of Grandma Palmer. Looking closer, she appeared unhurt. _All of this madness must have given her a heart attack._ Ahead of me, I saw the Holdens huddled together in the darkness.

"Jin did it, and so can we. I'm getting out of here, Mary. Follow me!"

Tom rushed across the room towards a hallway at the other end. As I watched, shots rang out and the muzzle flashes illuminated two security officers. Tom's body jerked and crumpled, his momentum carrying him forward.

"Tom!" Mary screamed, running to his body. More shots rang out, and she collapsed on top of him. _Our very own Romeo and Juliet, how fitting. _Well, at least I knew what NOT to do now. I edged into the atrium and slunk to the far end. Moving across to the other side of the room, I crept to the stairs leading up, having safely skirted the officers' line of sight.

Luck was on my side, as this door was prevented from sealing itself in security mode. A locker was propped underneath the door, **clang**ing metallically as it continuously tried to descend from the ceiling. I crept up the stairs, wary of any more security personnel. Coming upon a dead maintenance worker, I took the bobby pins from his toolbox. Nearing the front of the Vault, I knew the Overseer's office was close, past the detention facilities and security offices. However, fate seemed destined to pull one last punch before letting me out of this place. As I crouched and slunk down the hall below window level, I chanced to glance up and over the edge into the only brightly-lit room.

Within, I couldn't believe my eyes as Amata's father gave a curt nod at Officer Kendall. Kendall's hand arced right, backhanding Amata and sending the chair she was tied to crashing to the floor. I could see her head crack against the floor, even if I couldn't hear the impact. Kendall picked it back up. The Overseer's mouth moved, his lips a thin line of suppressed rage. Amata, dazed from the last blow, simply sat still and impassive.

His face darkening, her father slapped her, sending the chair toppling again. Kendall picked it up, only for the Overseer to repeat the process. Unwilling to leave her, I cased the room through the reinforced glass. Kendall wasn't wearing his sidearm, and the Overseer had no more than his bare hands. However, I couldn't be sure of what the lockers or desks contained. Considering the location, I didn't feel confident that the room was free of firearms.

Amata was knocked to the floor again, blood seeping from a gash in her lip. Several bruises darkened her cheeks, and I could see her iron will beginning to crumble. If this went on much longer, she would either break or be beaten into a coma. I had to act, and soon. I tucked the switchblade up my sleeve, stuck the baton into my belt, and set my bag by the door before swiping the Overseer's ID.

"Hello, Alphonse. Am I interrupting Family Game Night?"

I exploded into action as he began to reply. Flicking the hidden blade into my hand, I had it at his throat before he could finish what I'm sure would have been a rather uninspired order for Kendall to seize me. I flicked the release and the blade **snik**ed out. I slid it lightly over the vein pulsing in his neck, drawing a trickle of blood. _Wow, this is practically a scalpel…_ I marveled before getting down to business.

"Kendall, back away from that weapons locker. Now!"

I pressed the blade further into the Overseer's neck. Kendall halted his subtle edging towards the weapons cache.

"Good, now untie her."

He complied, and I ordered him into the corner of the room.

Finally glancing at Amata, I could see the gratitude in her eyes. Softening my voice, I spoke gently.

"Amata, are you okay?"

She nodded, but I saw her wince at the motion.

"Could you please get the pistol that I'm sure our dear Officer Kendall was going for earlier?"

She did it unquestioningly, going to the locker and pulling out the firearm from within. I knew that my next request would be a challenge.

"Keep it pointed at them, please."

She glanced at me and I read it all in her eyes: an unwillingness to point a gun at her father coupled with panic at the thought of killing yet again. However, she trusted me enough to do it. I'd have to be quick, though. There was no telling how long before her dad realized and exploited her unwillingness to hurt him. I moved around the room, riffling through the lockers and gathering any firearms in them, all of which I piled behind me. On a whim, I grabbed a second baton and secured it to my waist.

"Let's go, Amata. It's all over now," I reassured her.

I stared her father down, unfazed by the murderous hate in his eyes.

"We're leaving now, and you will not follow us."

Of course, I didn't really expect them to just sit by as I waltzed out of the Vault. But I had a plan to minimize the threat.

"Amata, I left my pack right outside the door. Can you take it to your father's office and get the passage open for me?"

I was amazed that she didn't refuse, knowing as she did how much incentive I had to kill her father. After her departure, I turned back to the two men in the room. I saw the Overseer's apprehension, but quite a different expression was on Kendall's face. I could see his eyes scanning the room and recognized it as a precursor to action from my own experiences.

"Alphonse, it is in your best interest to secure Mr. Kendall in the holding cell," I advised, "before he tries something that might get you both killed."

Neither of them moved, staring mulishly at me, but I was having none of it. I stepped into a punch that sent Kendall sprawling backwards into the holding cell. I hit the pad beside the door that activated the energy field.

"I'm sorry to see that you're feeling less than cooperative today, Mr. Overseer Almighty."

He didn't speak, merely continued glaring at me in impotent fury. I whirled, slicing downwards with my hand. It connected at the base of his skull and he dropped like a rock, incapacitated. Hoping that Amata hadn't encountered any resistance, I sprinted towards the administrative area of the Vault.

Stepping into her father's office, I blew out a breath of relief to see her sitting beside the pack, the wall behind her gaping open and revealing a tunnel of rough-hewn stone beyond. She turned, fidgeting with her hands.

"My father?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.

"Will live," I stated simply. "Are you ready?"

She bit her lip guiltily. _Oh, hell._

"I can't leave."

I stared at her incredulously.

"But your own father was ready to kill you!" I exclaimed, disbelief coloring my words.

"He's not himself right now. He's not like that!"

I wondered if she could see how deep in denial she was right now.

"But he's…"

"He's my father!" she said fiercely. "No, he's not perfect. Neither is yours. We can't choose our parents, Lei!" she cried, tears welling up in her eyes.

"But I need you!" I shouted back, my voice naked with emotion. "What am I supposed to do without you?"

"Live. For me."

She sobbed, the tears beginning to flow. I ran to her, my throat closing up with grief. I was on the brink of attaining true freedom, and it all seemed so meaningless now. I gave into the moment and wept. The tears rolled down my face.

"I will come back. One day, we will be free. Together," I choked out.

I pulled back, my senses devouring every detail of her, burning her into my memory.

"I'll wait for you," she replied brokenly, genuine regret evident in her demeanor.

On an impulse, I pulled her into a fierce embrace and smashed my lips to hers. It was clumsy and full of passion, which she reciprocated as our tongues danced together, memorizing the taste of bliss. All too soon, it ended as Amata broke the kiss and glanced down at her Pip-Boy.

"You have to hurry, the Vault door reseals in 15 seconds!" she said urgently.

The wall began rumbling as the two halves started grinding back together again. I grabbed the pack from the ground and ran into the darkness beyond, already able to see a faint hint of light at the end of the tunnel. I stopped, turned, and stood still, locking eyes with Amata, who held a similar stance on the other side of the door. We held each other's gaze until, with a final **koom**, the doors sealed shut and I was left in darkness.

Activating my Pip-Boy light, I turned and picked my way past the debris of skeletons littering the cave floor, eventually coming to a warped door of steel mesh and boards. A whine pierced the air as I forced it open, the rusted hinges screeching and the edges grating against stone. I stepped out into the Wasteland. A bright orb in the sky - …_the moon… _I reminded myself – cast a pale light over everything.

I flipped off my light and set down my pack, eyes taking in the bleak, barren landscape stretching in every direction. A wave of despair crashed over me. _How will I ever survive out here? It's hopeless!_ Amata's face flashed in my mind. _Live…_

_I will come back…_I silently promised myself._ One day..._And with that thought, I shouldered my pack, striding forward with purpose into the unknown. _For you…_


End file.
